


Wild Child

by mytholizzie



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: CS AU, Captain Swan - Freeform, Captain Swan AU - Freeform, Drug and Alcohol Use, F/M, emma is a trainwreck, hospital au, killian is there to save the day!, volunteer!killian, wild child!emma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-02
Updated: 2017-05-02
Packaged: 2018-10-26 21:54:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10795512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mytholizzie/pseuds/mytholizzie
Summary: Killian is a volunteer at a hospital to help him with coping after the death of his brother, Liam; Emma is the daughter of famously, wealthy parents who donate to the hospital to keep up their appearance, yet she has a habit of consistently making the local tabloids for some drunk and disorderly situation or other.





	Wild Child

**Author's Note:**

> Emma is basically a trainwreck waiting to happen, and Killian is there to steamroll in and save the damn day!

After casually making rounds in the E.R, tending to the minor injuries by way of locating water for easing pills, or assisting nurses in performing routine checks, Killian was confronted with a raucous in the form of a blonde tornado, limbs flailing akimbo along the corridor as she was maneuvered through the E.R. Whilst with a patient, helping them with their yogurt lid, he couldn’t help but stare at the blonde as she passed by the window of the room he occupied, causing the yogurt to splatter all over his dark wash slim-fit jeans. The curious, golden-haired trouble-maker had originally made to sneer at him for staring at her, but once she saw the yogurt erupt into his lap, she smirked and quirked a brow under the ratty mess of hair across half of her face, before completely passing by the patient’s room. Killian was left slack-jawed, with a strawberry scented mess in his lap.

Upon finishing his rounds, Killian went to the doctors' changing room to change out of the jeans he had been wearing, again there was another raucous in the corridor, this time it was not from the blonde, but a middle-aged couple, arguing over a female named Emma. Their exchange seemed pretty heated and attracted a lot of unwanted attention of varying degrees. Killian, being the gentleman he was, decided on attempting to ignore the discussion as he edged past the couple amidst one particularly explosive segment, and made his way to the bathroom.

There he splashed his face with cold water, to wake himself up. Once he felt at least semi-conscious, he took out his night bag and swiftly preened himself so, he looked more presentable before he was to leave the hospital for the night. While the faucet was running, he noted that somebody else was sharing the bathroom. He suddenly felt self-conscious and minimized the amount of space he was taking up on the counter. With the disagreement still raging outside the bathroom between the middle-aged couple, Killian was certain he heard a sob coming from one of the stalls. cautiously he pressed his hand against the cool metal door, there he found that same, golden-haired blonde that had smirked at him when he had spilled the yogurt into his lap.

Seeing her face there mascara tracking down her cheeks, eyes red and puffy, Killian felt a modicum of empathy for her. He did not know her story, but still, he felt compelled to listen, should she want to share it with him. The blonde finally turned her emerald green eyes up at him, they were spectacular. He had never seen such a shade of green before, and he felt as though he could get lost in them, in the few milliseconds they had shared.

"The fuck do you want?" she hissed, curling her arms tightly around her form, willing for the space she was occupying to somehow minify and allow her to exist without interruption. The world, she knew, did not play fair, however.

"Sorry, love. But you do realize you are occupying the gentleman's bathrooms right?" Killian pressed, informing her that she was indeed in the Mens' bathrooms.

"I don't care if we're in Timbuktu." she seethed, even just the minimal conversation between she and Killian was beginning to grow terse. She needed the space. The blonde exhaled stubbornly, "Can you just cut the Savior attitude and leave me the hell alone?! God! I need time to think."

To say he wasn't taken aback would be an understatement. Killian was certain he had done everything by the book; he had approached her with a friendly demeanor, he had offered her space, should she wanted to share her story, however, this blonde who had whirl winded her way into his life somehow threw back his gentle attitude without a second thought for his feelings, or how he would be affected by their encounter.

"I'm sorry, lass but, I'm just trying to be friendly, here. If you want me to truly want me to leave you alone, then I can do that. You just have to say the word, and I'll be out of your hair." Killian gave her a reassuring nod, showing her he was genuine about the comment he had made.

"What did you say your name was?" She glanced over at him, eyeing him, still slightly guarded.

"Killian, love." He beamed, crisp, blue eyes meeting hers as he extended his hand for a proper introduction, "Killian Jones."

"I've seen you here before." Emma nodded, reaching for his hand, shaking it lightly, "You're a doctor? You don't dress like one." She eyed him, lingering particularly on his dark jeans, where she had witnessed his earlier accident.

"No, no. I'm just a volunteer here- you're here often, then?" Killian gave a smirk, eyeing her with newfound interest, "What's your story, love? Mother and father on the Board of Governors, or something like that?" He accentuated the last syllable, eyes searching hers.

And suddenly, her chilling attitude returned once more. The playfulness from their conversation dissipated and Killian was left feeling an icy chill within the space between them, so he backed off slightly, sensing that she was about to implode or combust. A smorgasbord of options played out in his mind. He stood, turning his back to her as he crossed the distance between stall and basins, gaze fixated on her in the mirrors. He packed his belongings into his night bag, occasionally checking back at the stall, to ensure she was still there.

Finally, he turned, bag slung low over his shoulder, "Look, love..." he scrubbed a hand over his face, slowing as his fingers reached the two-day stubble that dusted his jawline. He sighed, "I don't know what your story is, or whether or not it has something to do with those folks outside, arguing. But, if you need anything while you're at this hospital, just let me know, alright?"

He turned on his heel, messenger bag whipping out slightly as he made his way to the door of the bathrooms. He paused, hand poised at the handle, as he muttered, "I'll see you 'round, love."

It took her less than a few seconds before she was shuffling, willing herself to stand in the stall. She called after him, "Killian, wait."

Her tone was meek and low, as though she were a child, scolded by their parents and now wanting attention or forgiveness. It caused him to turn, however. He was greeted by her standing at the edge of the stall, eyes bloodshot and puffy. Her dress was askew, hanging limply off her left shoulder, she looked completely disheveled. She looked pathetic; make-up smeared across her face, like tracks of war-paint, caked after days of surviving the wilderness.

"You can help me with anything in this hospital?" She asked him, her tone coy and coquettish.

"To a degree, yes." Killian nodded and offered her a light smile.

She envisioned that she sauntered across to him, however, she clumsily swayed and stumbled in heels that were at least an inch higher than she could ideally handle. He almost had to catch her as she neared him, however, she was there, with a proposition for him.

"Get me a couple of these...?" Emma's hand dove into her expertly displayed cleavage and withdrew a small, plastic pocket containing a few circular pastel colored pills. She turned her gaze up at him, her face too close to his, vision hazy as she smirked with heavy lids, "Think you can do that?"

It took Killian a few moments to process what Emma was asking him to do, and he stumbled backward, removing himself from the situation, instead, he backed into the door where Emma promptly pinned him between her body and the door. He could feel the handle digging into the flesh on his side, it was still tender from how he had slept the previous night.

"You can't be serious?" He eyed her incredulously, "There's no way I'm getting these for you. Do you even know what they are?! Is that why you were carted in here, kicking and screaming? Are those people out there your parents?" He asked her, mouth moving at a mile a minute.

"What do you mean, you're not going to get these for me?" Emma scoffed, the pocket still dangling between her fore and index fingers, "What a way to be a buzz-kill." She rolled her eyes, shaking her head as she heard her parents continuing to argue over her outside the bathrooms, "If you must know; yes, they are my parents out there. I got a little wasted or high or something, they're the folks--" she used bunny-ears, "Who keep this hospital afloat. You don't get me these, I'll just have to blow some doctor, get a scrip written out. You wouldn't want that on your conscience, would you?"

He flicked his eyes between hers and the pills, detouring once to the impeccable cleavage she was in possession of before he huffed and grabbed the packet from her, stuffing it into his messenger bag like a benevolent child. His eyes suddenly clouded with the warning he was brewing; "You tell anyone I got these for you..." he almost growled. It came out as more of a threat, which hadn't been his intended tone, but he trailed off the moment he realized.

"You're going to want to find Emma when you have those..." She smirked innocently.

Killian glared at Emma for a few more moments, before catching his hand in the handle, giving it an exasperated tug as he exited the bathroom, right into the blonde’s parents, who were unsurprisingly still arguing over their precious princess.

* * *

He wasn't entirely sure what had happened between them in the bathroom, but it left Killian in a state of pure, unadulterated bewilderment as he arrived home, slinging his bag across the kitchen table, not caring about the keys that skidded across the surface, and landed with a muffled jingle on the carpeted flooring. He exhaled slowly, allowing his days' difficulties to escape as he perched himself on the edge of his couch, elbows resting on his knees as he raked fingers back through his hair, "Bloody hell..." He shook his head, reviewing the exchange between him and Emma.

Glancing over at his bag, he stood, stretching his back, hearing the symphony of cracks and pops as he straightened. He crossed his living room, and grabbed at the strap, tugging the bag across the table to search for the minute pouch Emma had given him. There was no way he could jailbreak a few pills from the pharmacy without anybody noticing him. He didn't even know her, and he had agreed to risk his role in the hospital -where her parents were investors- to steal a few recreational drugs for her.

He guessed that the argument her parents were having was about her behavior, and what solutions they had for correcting her and setting her on the right path. She was a wild-child, that much was clear. Killian did feel for her. In his nature, he could show immense compassion, empathy, and sympathy, and even for the toughest of exteriors, he had time to break down walls, allowing a person to bloom and welcome others into their life. He supposed that's what he was going to do with her; get to know her, figure out what made her Emma, and allow her to open up to someone.

Killian imagined that Emma was often left alone when she was growing and maturing, with parents who were obviously socialites, interested in galas, and balls, and charitable events. To barter some form attention, she probably figured out that acting out was the best, fastest and easiest way to accomplish her goal. He wondered what she would do upon discovering he hadn't stolen the pills for her, and he couldn't help the smile that etched its way across his mouth at the thought.

She was a princess, that much was certain, and he was willing to crack through her entitled façade, and teach her how to truly believe in the prospect of other people, their lives and hope that would teach her how to be gratuitous. What he needed, was an action plan though, he truly needed to think through how to correctly execute his project.


End file.
